


Undead Heart

by tripoutdude (orphan_account)



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Angst, M/M, Smut, Supernatural Elements, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 07:36:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5657998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/tripoutdude
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete is turned into a vampire by the mob the runs the underground network of Chicago vampires. While he juggles finding them and being in Fall Out Boy, they hit him where it hurts the most - Patrick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prolouge

Pete walked down a dark alley, not paying much attention to the shadows dancing on the walls surrounding him. Why should he care? He lived near Chicago and spent most of his hours there. He knew his way around with closed eyes, so there really couldn’t be anything to hurt him. He swiped his hair from his eyes, and shoved his hands in his pockets, suspecting one of the city rats or a bird shifting on a window sill above him.  
Still, he hurried faster. Just because he wasn't scared of alleys didn't mean that they were pleasant. Looking down at his cold feet, and blowing billows of air out of his mouth, he didn't notice the quick, barely there footsteps, or well, anything, until he awoke 2 hours later in a stranger's bed, tied down and wondered just what type of bondage fantasy he was about to be a part of.


	2. Not A Bondage Fantasy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pete meets a hot girl under not so hot circumstances.

Pete awoke to a dark quiet room, with only the sound of his breathing to give him company. It was the kind of darkness that envelops you, that makes you think your eyes are closed when they’re wide open and filled with fear. He tried to lift his head to find a source of light in the room, but found nothing except a belt holding his neck down. Even with the absence of light and movement, he was able to recognize the lack of the shirt or hoodie he had on earlier. That wasn’t comforting, but he knew the numbness in his legs was due to the skinny jeans he was known for. He laid there for what seemed like forever, pulling at random straps when he gathered strength to do it in that area. Eventually he gave up, and resolved to go to sleep.   
Occasionally, he heard what sounded like arguing, fighting, or footsteps, but it didn’t seem to matter much in his half-asleep stupor. After sleeping on and off and the rock of a bed (such hospitality), he swore he heard footsteps. But honestly, he couldn’t be sure if he was hallucinating because of hunger. It wasn’t something that he had thought about before, but as rumbles shook through his body, it was hard not to be aware. Closing his eyes again, he laid still, trying to focus in on the sound. The heels clicking on the ground sounded like they were coming towards him. They were fast, heavy, and absolutely terrifying. They got louder and louder, and Pete wondered just how short the hallway was.   
Enough with thinking, though. If he was going to get anywhere, he had to actually do something. He mouth felt stuffed with cotton but he had to try. He had this suspicion that he was about to be killed, and didn’t know how right that would be. So, with the last of the saliva left in his mouth he yelled out, “Help! Please help me!”  
In the darkness, Pete could make out a woman in the doorway. It was opened so swiftly that he wasn’t aware she was coming in. With his first glance, her skin seemed to provide the only light in the room. He blinked rapidly, convincing himself that it was the light of the hallway. Or was the door closed already? It was too much thinking. It had been 10 seconds, but millions of things passed through his mind when he first saw her. She stared back at him, smirking, almost filled with pity. She had hazel eyes that seemed to light up at the room. Or were those red?   
Her high heels clicked over to him, her staring eyes twinkling the whole time. The more he looked, the more scared he got. A lot of girls were intimidating to him, given the whole height thing, but this was different. She smiled, and all at once, he felt a certain awe that just radiated from her being, and terror when he looked at her radiant teeth. “It may be of help to you, just not the type you want,” she said, slowly studying me. Her voice was deep and melodic, but it didn’t fit her appearance. It reminded him of the feeling he got from her though. She finished her judgement of him apparently, because she shook her head and frowned. “They never give me good recruits,” she mumbled, gritting her teeth. “They don’t think of the risks. They bring in a famous, tan, short guy.”  
Pete grumbled and scrunched his face in a frown. “I can hear you, you know,” he muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes.  
Turning sharply, she stared him in the eye. “You think this is about you?! Don’t be conceited. Not even Pete Wentz himself is worth being killed for. They never think about the risks! Just status, popularity, and blood. It’s either be killed by them if I leave, or be killed by humans if I stay,” looking down at her feet, she took a breath and rolled up a sleeve. Pete barely had time to clear through the fog over his eyes from hearing her talk before she straddled him and snarled, bringing her wrist to her exposed fangs and biting down hard. What the hell? He was absolutely sure that was not a normal thing to do. Remembering bits and pieces of her words made him alarmed, but he would be lying if he said he could move. There is certainly a time and a place for straps and girls on top of him, but now was not it. This whole thing was crazy, and if he could pinch himself, he would. Blood, murder, and status? What the absolute hell was this lady on?   
He had strong legs from years of soccer, but none of that mattered if they were tied down. He thrusted his hips up, trying to throw her off of her seat on top of his stomach. She held him down with her other hand as she lowered her hand towards his mouth. He didn’t care why she was doing it, he just knew that he wasn’t going to let her. He turned his head as much as the belt around his neck allowed him, tightening his lips the whole time, except for a half-hearted attempt to spit at her.   
He immediately regretted it. Apparently, spitting on tall red-heads was the very equivalent of poking a sleeping dragon. Her eyes flared red, and the last thing Pete saw was her hand coming towards his face.


End file.
